That's What Friends Are For
by luvablebubble
Summary: Alison returns to Port Royal to find a husband and start a family. Is that what she really wants and does she get it? Read to find out.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing POTC. I only own Alison and that is all.  
  
Author's Note: Ok, my first fic. I loved the POTC movie and Jack Sparrow. There are a lot of J/OC stories out there and this is not one. If you think Alison is a Mary-Sue, oh well, I tried to keep her Mary-Sue free and that will prove that I failed. On a better note-ENJOY!  
  
"We are almost there, Miss Conners. We have just a few more hours to go," the captain of the ship called to a young woman leaning over the edge of the ship. Her soft green eyes roamed about the vast and endless blue ocean surrounding the ship. She was off start a new life in the Spanish Main. Miss Conners' long blonde hair blew about her waist as it hung behind her shoulders and down her back.  
"A few hours is too long," she muttered to herself. She had to admit that the seas were making her stomach turn. She had heard too many pirate stories about the waters they were in and the last thing she wanted was to meet up with one those disgusting, vile men. Her past would make it clear to all that she passionately disliked pirates more than anything.  
Before her father left her when she was around the age of two, he told her that he was not her real father. He and her mother had vacationed in the Caribbean. One night, while her mother's husband, a sea merchant, was sailing the seas in a trade ship; a gang of pirates raided the town. One of them had raped her mother and she, Ms. Conners, was the outcome. Her mother's husband called her an unwanted accident and left her on the streets of London years after. Her aunt took her in and brought her to live down in the Spanish Main. On her seventh birthday, Ms. Alison Conners sailed back to England and went back to her hometown to live with a close friend of her mother's, whom she knew quite well. Thirteen years later, she returns, finding the need to settle down with a nice man. She did not know exactly why the Caribbean called to her, but nevertheless, she was sailing back.  
"Ms. Conners, are you alright? You are looking a little pale," one of the crewmen approached her with much concern.  
"I'm feeling a little ill," she bluntly responded.  
"Would you like to lie down?"  
"I am quite fine hanging over the ship's edge, thank you."  
"If you need anything, please ask," the boy moved away to continue his duties. Alison did not mind the company of the crew and she loved to tease them, but now that she was going out on her own she had to make a good impression. If she made a great impression, maybe she could find herself a nice man to marry. With that last cheery thought, Alison's seasickness got the best of her as she puked over the side.  
  
-Ok, how was that? I know it was short and all, but it was a brief prologue type of thing. Please review and if you don't like it, please tell me how I can make it better. Thank you. 


	2. That Bar

Disclaimer: I don't own nada.  
  
Author's Note: I wasn't sure if there were really bars in Port Royal, but I figured every town/city must have at least one.right? Well, here goes nothin'.  
  
Alison was extremely relieved when the captain had called to the crew that land had been spotted. She was even more relaxed when she walked off the ship and onto solid ground. The downfall was that she could not find a house by herself. With a frown of defeat, she made her way to the bar and took a seat at the counter.  
"What can I get for you?" the bar wench questioned the sullen young woman.  
"I'll have an ale, please," Alison requested. The woman left and quickly came back with a mug of ale. Alison placed the money for the beverage in the woman's hand. "Thank you," Alison picked up the heavy mug and took a swig of the golden liquid. She placed the large mug onto the counter and placed her face in the palms of her hands.  
"Y' know, luv, I've only ever seen a lad drink his sorrows away," a slurred voice came from beside Alison. She lifted her head and looked at the man to her left. She studied him briefly and shot him a look of disgust.  
"I beg your pardon, but I am not drinking away my sorrows," she replied coldly.  
"Do ye come 'ere for fun, then?" the man questioned once more before gulping down his beverage. His chocolate eyes studied her face and moved down past the neck before her voice broke his concentration.  
"What do you think you are looking at!" Alison shrieked, placing her arms across her chest.  
"So how 'bout it, luv. Are you up to it?" he smiled cheekily at her shocked face. Alison looked at his eye for a second before giggling. Soon these giggles turned into laughter. The man looked at her questionably. "What's so funny?"  
"Nothing. Nothing, I'm sorry," Alison took two deep breaths, taking in the smell of cooked meat and alcohol, before drinking down half of the mug of ale. The man looked amused, taking in the effect that the alcohol must be having on the young lass.  
"Something must be funny."  
"Do you want to know the truth?" she leaned in toward him; the alcohol on her breath tingling the man's nose. "I'm not a wench."  
"Are you sure, luv?" he asked, more bemused than he was a second before.  
"Alison Conners!" a shrill voice echoed through out the bar. The young woman looked past the tanned man. In the doorway stood a woman whom had her dark brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. The woman's navy blue dress was clean cut, making the woman look out of place.  
"Young lady," the woman spotted Alison and stormed over to her, "what are you doing?"  
"Um." Alison looked up at the fair-faced woman.  
"We are going home," the woman grabbed Alison's forearm with her right hand and Alison's suitcase with the other. Alison glanced at the man before being dragged out of the bar.  
"Young lady, what were you thinking?" the woman interrogated once more, letting go of the blonde's arm.  
"Aunt Sarah, I didn't know you knew I was coming here," Alison rubbed her covered forearm, surprised at the grip her aunt had gained.  
"That woman you were staying with sent word and word came faster than you," Sarah stated, her chocolate eyes stern and demanding. "What were you doing in that bar?"  
"I stopped in because the seas made me sick."  
"I do not understand you and I do not believe you," Aunt Sarah tapped her foot, impatiently waiting for an answer. Alison swept her hair over the front of her shoulder and began to braid it. This was something she often did out of nervousness.  
"I counted my money and saw that I had little and I realized that in order for me to have the house and life I wanted, I had to marry first. I became slightly depressed and went to have a drink," the young woman finished with a deep breath.  
"Why didn't you seek me out?" Aunt Sarah questioned with a hint of sympathy lingering in the tone of her voice.  
"You have done a lot for me, Aunt Sarah, and I didn't want to bother you anymore," Alison's pale emerald eyes lowered to the stone and dirt beneath her feet. Aunt Sarah placed a gentle arm around her niece after picking up the suitcase.  
"Alison, you know I am always here whenever you need me. I am not going to leave you to fend for yourself."  
"Thank you, Aunt Sarah," Alison placed both arms around her aunt's neck in a soft embrace.  
"There are some stipulations, though," Aunt Sarah mentioned and began to tell them to Alison as they began their short walk to Aunt Sarah's house.  
  
-How was it? I hope it's keeping you guys interested. Let me know what you think and if you want me to continue. K? Thanks. 


	3. Two Years Later

Author's Note: Leila, thank you for being my first reviewer. *hugs* I'll try to make my chapters longer.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm ownlessness...hmmm, a new word. I own nothing, nada, zip, zilch, nil...you get the point.  
  
Rain poured down onto the cobblestone streets, creating massive puddles. Alison ran through the streets. She made her way down an alley in a hurry. Her feet splashing in the puddles as she ran to the door at the end of the alleyway. The young woman opened the old door, slipped inside, and closed it behind her. "Alison, you are late," a scruffy looking man scolded the blonde, watching her catch her breath.  
  
"I am sorry, Peter. I got caught up at home," she briefly apologized to the large man. He looked at her and shook his head.  
  
"Don't let it happen again," he warned her. She nodded, taking off her coat. She hung the black coat on the coat hanger and pushed through the swinging door, walking into the noisy bar.  
  
Only a few men sat at the bar, the rest drinking with their wenches. The bar was crowded, as usual, and very loud. Alison would go home with a headache tonight for sure, with all the screaming, yelling, and giggling. "I'll have a rum," one of the men ordered before guzzling down the rest of his beverage. Alison looked around for a moment.  
  
"Rose, what's in the mugs?" Alison questioned a passing bar wench.  
  
"Rums for Sparrow's crew," Rose answered, balancing the tray of drinks on one hand and holding the tray with the other. Alison snatched one of the mugs of rum and placed it in front of the drunken man. He slammed down his mug and picked up the other one.  
  
"I hope you can pay for those," Alison said, leaning over the bar slightly. The man did not even give her a glance, for he was preoccupied with his rum. It took him a moment of silence between him and Alison before he realized she was talking to him. He looked at her and smiled playfully.  
  
"The drinks or the whores?" he asked, gesturing to the two women behind him.  
  
"The drinks. It looks like those women have already been bought for tonight. So, what brings you here, Jack?" Alison smiled, leaning her head on her right hand.  
  
"It's Captain," Jack corrected, taking a swig of his beloved drink.  
  
"Forgive me. What brings you back, Cap'n?" she asked again.  
  
"Visiting Will," he grinned at the woman before him.  
  
"Just Will?"  
  
"And you," he nodded at her, setting down his drink once more.  
  
"It's been four months, why so long?"  
  
"Got a good haul. Treasure huntin' pays off after all, luv."  
  
"Oh, I see," Alison giggled. Without her asking, he began his tale of his recent treasure hunt.  
  
Throughout the past two years, Jack has made an effort to visit Alison at least once every two months. After the day they met at the bar Alison went back looking for a job, one of her aunt's stipulations. Jack was staying that whole week, for it was Will and Elizabeth's wedding, and they had talked and gotten to know one another. It was not until three months after they became friends that Jack had spelled it out for her that he was a pirate. She would not talk to him for a few months, but she eventually came around.  
  
".And then we took all the gold he had in his cellar," Jack Sparrow finished with a smile. Alison smiled at his story, shaking her head.  
  
"You are something else, Cap'n," she let her smile droop into a slight grin. She loved hearing his tales of adventure, but she had work to do. She reached under the bar's countertop and whipped out an old stained rag that had once been white. Its color had faded in time and covered in red, gold, and other hues from the alcohol and food spills. She tossed the rag onto the bar from under it and began to wipe the bar top.  
  
"You aren't all that you seem either, luv," Jack added, picking up his drink again.  
  
"I didn't say that," Alison looked at him with stern eyes. She studied his dark face. His eyes never looked at her; they just stayed focus on the mug in his hand. After a moment of silence Jack's chocolate brown eyes looked up into her eyes with slight confusion.  
  
"What?" "I never said you weren't what you seemed," she stated, irritation trying to break the barrier of patience.  
  
"I didn't say you did," he finished off his rum and stood up from the wooden bar stool.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"I'm leaving," Jack slammed the mug onto the bar. He scooped up his hat and pushed it onto the top of his head.  
  
"Why?" Alison questioned.  
  
"I have places to go and people to...see," he chose his words carefully, not wanting to offend Alison.  
  
"Goodnight, Jack," she mumbled. She shook her head while the pirate captain walk out of the bar. A few stray hairs waved in front of her face with each head movement. Alison's emerald eyes fixed their gaze on these blonde strands. With a huff Alison grabbed onto the thin strands and secured them behind her ear.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The pub door opened, another customer aiming for alcohol. It had been twenty-three minutes since Jack left. Alison had been busy taking food and drinks to the men that inhabited the bar. She categorized them all in the same group, the filthy disgusting miscreants of or visiting Port Royal.  
  
She had gone into the kitchen and when she came back out she spotted a decent looking young man sitting at the bar. His perfectly sculpted face held two eyes of bright blue. Short russet hair lay on top of his head. His hair was matted down and Alison assumed it was because of the rain that poured onto the cobblestone streets.  
  
She slowly approached him, taking in his damp form. His loose shirt was the color of the blue sky and his pants were a dark brown, like the color one would see on a tree trunk. Through his wet shirt she could clearly make out his torso shape. He had less muscle than Jack did and his skin was paler than Jack's skin...but why was she comparing him to Jack? Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she was ready to do her job again.  
  
"What can I get for you?" she asked. He looked at her and smiled.  
  
"You're Sarah's niece, aren't you?" he asked, leaving poor Alison slightly confused.  
  
"Yes. Why do you ask?" she questioned back.  
  
-Sorry, I know that was a really really bad place to leave off, but I can't decide on why he wants to know. Will he be her love interest? Maybe. I cannot say. Keep reviewing, please, it encourages me. And thank you again, Leila. I hope this chapter was a good length. (If not, the next one will be longer) 


	4. I Heard It On The Grapevine

Author's Note: Sorry that it's been a while since I last updated, I couldn't think of and good ideas. They did come, though, yipee! So here is the next chapter, dun dun dun.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't got none.(I don't own anything but Alison, her family, and her co-workers)  
  
"Yes. Why do you ask?" she questioned back.  
  
"Let's just say that word goes around," he grinned at her.  
  
"Does she talk about me?" Alison sounded a little hurt and she had a right to be. Does Sarah go around telling everyone about her? What would she have to say about her anyway? The questions swirled around her mind before the man's mellifluous voice melted those questions away.  
  
"Do not worry, for I only heard that you moved here two years ago. I was just curious to meet you."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"Sarah is such a confident woman and widely liked by many of the people in the town. I was curious to see if you were the same."  
  
"Am I?" Alison's question sounded as though she were challenging him to say the wrong thing. He looked at her for a moment taking in her appearance like she took in his before.  
  
"It is hard to say, m'lady. I would like to get to know you a bit more before I make up my mind," his once pleasant grin became slightly cocky and his eyes pleaded her.  
  
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt, but do not think I am easily won over, kind sir," the corners of her lips pulled upward in a playful manner.  
  
"In that case, I'll have an ale," he ordered his beverage and watched her disappear through the swinging door that led to the kitchen. The bottom of her crimson skirt bounced with each light step she took. It did not take her long to come back out to the bar with his drink and when she placed it in front of him he gladly reached for the handle. She watched him bring the dark colored mug to his lips, letting the golden liquid seep past his teeth and graze his tongue.  
  
"What's your name?" Alison asked.  
  
"Thomas," he said after he finished chugging down the ale. He set the mug on the counter, slightly sliding it away from him.  
  
"Well, Thomas, that'll be-" she did not even finish her sentence before Thomas dropped the cost of the drink in her outstretched hand. The cold metal felt good against her sweaty palm, but the refreshing feel did not last long. "Thank you," she said, closing her fingers around the coins.  
  
"I shall call upon you tomorrow, then. Goodnight," Thomas nodded his head at the staring young woman. Alison slowly nodded her head back, her voice unable to find its way out of her mouth. Thomas stood up from the bar and walked toward the door. He pushed open the door, its hinges groaning in pain.  
  
"Thomas," Alison called after him. He stopped, one foot already on the street outside. "You haven't asked for my name."  
  
"I was simply going to call you an angel that fell from the heavens, but if you wish to give me your name, please do so," he yelled back to her, his voice hardly audible over the racket in the bar. Alison blushed when he called her an angel but managed to hold his eyes with her own.  
  
"My name is Alison."  
  
"Goodnight, Alison," Thomas winked one blue eye at her and left, the old door shutting behind him.  
  
"Goodnight," Alison's voice was drowned out by an argument in the corner of the room. Peter walked up to the counter; seriousness clouded his hard features. She turned toward her boss, worry swirling around in her green eyes. "Is something the matter, Peter?"  
  
"Alison, that captain's crew is not leaving until they pay for their drinks."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"No," Peter quickly dismissed her clam reply. "They said their captain was going to pay and he's not here."  
  
"Peter," Alison began, "He may come back tomorrow night. Please, take it out of my pocket," she offered. Peter shook his head in disappointment that she would suggest such a thing.  
  
"Alison, your money is not to be used to pay for anyone anymore. You know where he is. You go get the money. It'll be good for you to get fresh air and to get away from the noise," without letting Alison get a word in, Peter walked back over to Jack's crew. Alison sighed at the thought of having to walk to the docks, but she supposed it would not hurt for her to get fresh air into her system.  
  
She walked out from behind the aging bar and started toward the door. She pushed the door open, its cries piercing her ears like nails on a chalkboard.  
  
"Alison," Alison turned from the door and saw Rose behind her. "Be careful," Rose handed her a dagger in a leather pouch, a wary look on her tan face.  
  
"Thank you," Alison slid the covered dagger into her belt and proceeded out the door. She stepped out into the calm cool air. The rain had stopped but the clouds remained, blanketing the time of day from her eyes. She walked along the wet cobblestone street towards the docks. He better be there and not out with some woman, she thought to herself. The streets were fairly empty and only a few people walked outside. A force of sea air plowed into Alison's side, causing her to step to the side to catch her balance. A shiver tickled her spin.  
  
Alison continued her walk, quickening her pace. The docks were not far from the bar and she was half way there. She had a bad feeling that dwelled in the pit of her stomach and that feeling made her oblivious to the goosebumps inhabiting the surface of her light skin. Suddenly she stopped, for she heard footsteps behind her. The steps stopped right behind her and she could feel a presence very close to her body.  
  
She slid the knife out of its leather pouch and jumped away, turning around in the process. Pain fell upon her face when she landed. Her foot twisted landed wrong and she toppled to the street. She lay on the wet street for a second, peering at the knife her hand still clutched. She sighed in relief that she did not harm herself with the knife. Her green eyes traveled to a pair of feet in front of her. Her gaze traveled up the figure's body and landed on the person's face.  
  
"Why were you following me?"  
  
- * gasp * Cursed clumsiness. Well, I hope that was a good chapter. Leila and Toni, thank you for reviewing my story ( You guys rock!!! 


	5. Money or Not

Author's Note: Yay! More reviewers! Ok, I know it's been a long long while, but I kinda had a block as to where the story's direction should be heading next and X2 came out so my mind has been there, too. I'm actually debating about trying my hand at an X-Men fic. If I do, I'll make sure I finish this one first. Ok, enough of my senseless rambling. This chapter came out longer than I expected. So here y'all are!  
  
Disclaimer: Nope, I own nothing.  
  
"Why are you following me?" Alison shrieked at the towering figure standing above her.  
"You shouldn't be playing with knives, luv," Jack Sparrow knelt down beside her, plucking the knife from her hand.  
  
"You didn't answer my question, Jack Sparrow," Alison said, her voice was shrill from the fright she had a few moments ago. She leered at him with glowing eyes, demanding an answer.  
  
"I saw ya' leave the bar and I was watching your back," he replied. His trademark grin slid onto his face causing Alison to scowl at him.  
  
"You were watching my back?" she questioned.  
  
"It's dangerous for a lass to be roaming the streets by herself, especially at night," he said, standing up from the street. Alison tried to stand up beside him, but fell to the ground. Her ankle was swollen, the pain like no other pain she felt before. Without warning Jack picked her up, carrying her in the direction of his ship like a man carrying his wife over the threshold.  
  
"Jack, what are you doing?" Alison's anger fled from her, his actions calming her.  
  
"Sorry," Jack turned around, heading toward the bar once more.  
  
"No, Jack, I was coming to find you. Peter won't let your crew leave without you paying."  
  
"Peter?"  
  
"My boss. He won't accept my money anymore," Alison informed the pirate captain. Her damp hair hung over her bare shoulders and swayed with each step Jack took. The clouds began to part and the night sky made its presence known.  
  
"Ah. Well, in that case, let's go pay the tab," Jack said carrying Alison all the way back to the bar.  
  
Two minutes later, Jack kicked the door to the pub open with his large dirty brown boot. Peter had spotted the pirate carry Alison over to the counter, sitting her down on one the stools. The bar owner stormed over to the duo. "You must be the captain," Peter said. His statement was more of a subtle question.  
  
"That I am. How much?" Jack asked, fishing for a small leather ouch from the rag-like sash tied around his waist.  
  
"Uh," Peter glanced at Alison, dumbfounded by Jack's approach. Normally the captain would try to get around paying, but it did not seem that way this time.  
  
"Alison," Rose's silky voice frightened Alison, causing her to turn toward the girl. "Can I have my knife back? I'm not going home without it."  
  
"Your knife?" Alison questioned Rose. Rose nodded her head. Alison tried to think of where she put it, but it hit her like a ton of bricks that Jack had the knife. "One moment, please," the young blonde woman smiled at Rose before turning around to the boys again. Jack had already paid for the drinks and Peter was heading towards Jack's crew. "Jack, can I have the knife back?" Alison whispered into Jack's ear. He felt along his sash for the small weapon and then raised an eyebrow.  
  
"The knife you had?" he asked.  
  
"Don't tell me you lost the knife."  
  
"I didn't lose it...I misplaced it," Jack nodded, satisfied with his response. "Rose," Alison turned back toward Rose. The woman's mahogany eyes burned into Alison's eyes. "On my way to the docks I was being followed. I went to attack my follower and I injured myself in the process. He took your knife and lost it."  
  
"Really? Well, your friend better escort me home, then," Rose said. A seductive smile played on her cherry lips while she eyed Jack.  
  
"Him? Jack?" Alison turned her green gaze to Jack. "Why him?"  
  
"Look at him, Alison. He's someone to go home with, money or not," Rose whispered to Alison. Her smile widened after she received a grin from the pirate captain.  
  
"Rose, that is not a way to live your life. Do you know how dangerous it is?"  
  
"Alison, only you would work in a place like this and expect a happy little family. Fairy tales don't exist here and your only aiming to get hurt in the end, so why not end blissfully?" Jack extended his hand to Rose after she spoke. Rose gladly took it, a slight squeal escaping her throat. Before Alison could blink those two were out of the bar.  
  
Rose's words replayed in the young woman's head. You're only aiming to get hurt. Was she? Should she turn to such a life? No. She still had hope that her fairy tale would come true. She just had to find prince charming, but she doubted he was lurking in a grungy pub.  
  
Alison's eyes roamed around the bar. Jack's crew was walking out of the bar and Peter was walking toward the kitchen. A man and a woman he picked up were heading up the creaky steps in the back of the pub. The steps led to rooms in case a weary traveler needed a rest for the night.  
  
"Alison, get back to work," Peter said, walking past Alison. He stopped and looked around the counter. "Where's Rose?" he questioned.  
  
"She ran off with Jack," Alison huffed. She hadn't the slightest idea how she was supposed to walk home with ankle the size of a cannonball.  
  
"The captain? Well, at least your still here."  
  
"Peter, may I have ice? I fell and hurt my ankle. It stings when I put pressure on it." "Of course," Peter ran into the kitchen and emerged from the kitchen with a rag that held a handful of ice cubes.  
  
"Thank you," Alison said, taking the ice package. She pulled her ankle onto her other knee and placed the cold pack on the black and blue skin.  
  
"You should stay here for the night if you can't walk. It'll be on the house," Peter offered.  
  
"Here? Isn't that dangerous for me?"  
  
"Dangerous? How?"  
  
"This place is full of drunk men. I don't trust any of them."  
  
"Well then, missy, how're you getting home?"  
  
"I limp," Alison said. She set the rag on the counter. The cloth opened up and ice spread out across the area of the white rag. Alison hopped off the chair and limped over to the door. With each limp, her skirt bounced up and down.  
  
"Be careful, Alison," Peter called after her.  
  
- Thank you to you reviewers, it helps me keep writing...although it took me a while to post this chapter. With POTC on its way to DVD in 2 days, I figure I'll have more than enough inspiration. Teehee. 


	6. Concern Over Tea

Author's Note: I know, I know, it took me a while to update and this chapter is way short. I'm slowly coming up with ideas, so if anyone wants to help me get to where I wanna go, please offer ideas. It would be most appreciated. This chapter kind of delves into the home of Alison's aunt and uncle that took her in.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.  
  
Alison opened the door to the pale blue house. She closed the white door behind her after she entered the house. She stood in the small foyer for a moment, feeling more relaxed in her relatives' home. The floor was stained wood that had recently been polished. The walls were white but dirty handprints were proof of some kind of chase that had previously happened.  
  
"Alison!" Alison turned toward the stairs from where her name was called. At the top of the cherry steps stood a nine-year-old boy. His light brown hair sat unkempt on top of his head.  
  
"What are you doing up this late?" Alison questioned. She limped over to the railing of the stairs and held on to keep her balance.  
  
"Yes, Jonathon, what are you doing awake at this hour?" Sarah stepped into the foyer from the sitting room.  
  
"Goodnight," Jonathon mumbled. He walked down the hall into his room, shutting the door behind him.  
  
"Alison, are you alright?" Sarah walked over to Alison. With Sarah's help Alison walked into the sitting room. She sat down on the navy blue couch opposite her uncle. He was drinking tea and worry was painted on his face. A fire fed on the logs in the fireplace, emitting a heat that welcomed Alison with open arms.  
  
"Yes, I am fine. I fell and sprained my ankle. It should be fine by morning," Alison crossed her arms, avoiding her uncle's eyes.  
  
"How did you fall?" her uncle asked. He greatly disliked the idea of her working at a bar. He worried about her like he worried about his own children.  
  
"I turned around, lost my footing and fell."  
  
"Did a man touch you?" he pressed the matter.  
  
"Uncle James, no one touches me without my consent. Believe me. Besides, Peter watches over me like I was his child. He would never let one of those drunken men touch me."  
  
"James, she is right," Sarah budded in. She placed a cup and saucer in front of Alison and poured the girl a cup of tea. "We have known Peter for many years."  
  
"I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed. Goodnight," Alison stood up and slowly made her way out of the sitting room. She felt the tenseness between her aunt and uncle and knew she should leave.  
  
"I think something else happened. She seemed-"  
  
"More at ease? James, maybe she just had a good night," Sarah sat down beside her husband and took his hand in hers.  
  
"You don't think she's gallivanting around the town, do you?"  
  
"I think you are overly worried about a young woman trying to make her own living. She just wants a happy ending."  
  
"I know, Sarah. I just can't help but worry."  
  
"I know, James. Goodnight," Sarah kissed James on the cheek and stood up. She smoothed her skirts before walking out of the room. A maid came out from the kitchen to pick up the teacups and saucers while James stared after his wife. He found it remarkable that she was so calm about their niece.  
  
-Thank you to all of the reviewers. Toni and Leila-u guys rock. ( I know this chapter, aside from being short, was kinda bad. I'm really sorry about that, but like I said I'm running out of ideas. I know where I want to go, but I haven't the foggiest idea how to get to the point that I can start the point I want to go. That was probably extremely confusing...my apologies. Any ideas? Please share. Other than that I'll try to update as soon as possible. Thank you again! 


	7. Better Looks in Different Light

Author's Note: Yes, another overly delayed update. I finally have the direction I want to go and actual ideas on how to get there! Now, if only I could turn off the PS2 and get in front of my computer, there will be an update soon.hopefully. There are two things in this that I was not completely sure of. The first is that I didn't know if the servants/maids wore bonnets. Were those the white things on their heads? If not, they are in my story. I'll correct it if someone tells me the correct term. The second is that I wasn't sure how people with straight hair curled their hair back then, so I used the idea of rolling rags in one's hair. I apologize if this is wrong. Other than that.enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nada.  
  
Morning came quickly. The sunlight was shining past the sheer curtains, spilling onto the wood floor. Alison slowly opened her eyes and yawned. She could hear Jonathon talking to her aunt downstairs. There was a slight knock on the bedroom door followed by the maid's voice.  
  
"Miss Alison, are you awake? Your aunt would like to speak with you," the maid entered after hearing Alison's grunt inviting her in. Her hair was black and tied up in a bun which was hidden beneath a white bonnet. The maid walked over to the window and tied back the curtains, allowing the full brightness of the sun to enter the room.  
  
"Did she say what she wanted to discuss?" Alison sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up on the floor. Her hair was tied back in rags, which she began to untie as she walked behind the pale blue dressing screen. The maid followed, carrying a dress she had picked out from the armoire in the corner of the room.  
  
"No, she did not," the maid held the dress in her arms. Alison, not done taking the rags out of her hair, stripped down to her undergarments. The maid helped Alison slip the robin's egg blue dress over her head and then the small maid began buttoning the back of the dress. Alison continued to free her tangled hair from the rags.  
  
"Thank you, Victoria," Alison said, emerging from behind the screen. All of the rags were out of her hair and left frizzy tight curls tangled together on top of her head. Stepping in front of the mirror on the wall, the young woman picked up her brush and began detangle her hair.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Good morning, Alison. Is your ankle feeling better?" Sarah greeted her niece, whom was coming through the door to the dining room.  
  
"Good morning. Yes, my ankle feels better, thank you. Victoria said you wanted to see me?"  
  
"Yes. Your uncle and I are concerned, Alison. You are still that respectable young lady I brought into my house, are you not?"  
  
"Yes, I am. Why would you ask that?" Alison's emerald eyes studied her aunt's stone face.  
  
"Just curious," Sarah began walking toward the kitchen, carrying a white plate with her.  
  
"I am going to take a walk, Aunt Sarah. I'll be back soon," Alison watched Sarah disappear into the kitchen. The young girl turned around, briskly walking out of the house. She felt confused and concerned about how her aunt and uncle perceived her.  
  
She was greeted by the still summer air when she opened the door. The sun was bright and not one cloud roamed the sky, assuring Port Royal that it was to be a hot day. Alison's ankle was feeling better and between that and the nice weather, she was ready to roam through the town.  
  
Many people were outside. Some people were shopping, some chatting and others were watching their children play. Not knowing exactly where she wanted to go, Alison began to stroll in the direction of the town square. "Alison," Alison turned at the sound of her name. A man ran up to her. It took her a moment to recognize him. "That is your name, no?" he asked, standing in front of her and looking into her eyes.  
  
"Yes, that is my name. Thomas?" she surprised that she was correct when he nodded. "You look different in this light."  
  
"As do you," he complimented the young woman before him.  
  
-Okay, that was that chapter. It's pretty short and I know. I'm sorry. I'll try to elongate the next chapter. Thank you to Leila and Toni-you guys rock! I'll try to update soon! ( 


	8. Not Wise to Make Eyes

Author's Note: Wow, nice quick update for everyone. Yay! Points for me! Actually, I turned off the PS2 and began typing away. The ideas were just there! So here is the next chapter and thank you to my reviewers.  
  
Disclaimer: I own zilch.  
  
"How did you come to be a tavern wench anyway?" Thomas asked. Alison looked up at him, appalled by his terminology.  
  
"Well, how did you come to visit that tavern?" she knew her question was silly but she asked it anyway. Thomas chuckled.  
  
"I had been studying over in England and I came back home. I stopped to have a drink after we docked."  
  
"Oh. I came to work at that tavern because my uncle is a friend of Peter, the owner. After sailing here from England, my aunt wanted me to get a job."  
  
"Therefore you now serve drinks to men like me."  
  
"Thomas, you are not like those men in the bar. You are more.courteous," Alison explained. Her and Thomas had been wandering throughout Port Royal and talking. They had been doing this for the past hour when they came to a door with a sign hanging above it. The sign had a hammer and an anvil and Turner was written underneath the picture.  
  
"Alison, do you mind if we stop in for a short while. I have not seen Mr. Turner in quite some time."  
  
"That is fine," Alison knew the surname sounded familiar but she could not put her finger on why. Thomas took her hand and led her inside the dark dusty shop. His hand felt warm against hers and set a few butterflies lose in her stomach.  
  
"He is a pure gentleman. I think you two will get along," the two stepped inside the shop and Thomas closed the door behind them.  
  
"I'm sure," she whispered. The young woman sounded skeptical. The shop made her slightly uncomfortable. A mule was tied up to a large wooden crane. She was unsure what it was used for. The clang of a mallet against hot metal echoed through the dirt floored room. Thomas ushered her toward the man hunched over a black anvil. His dark brown hair was tied back with a rag and some strands stuck to his sweaty face. She could tell his shirt used to be white but around the filth of the shop the shirt had become quite brown from the dirt. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His brown slacks and brown shoes matched the brown environment. The man looked up at the sound of muffled footsteps.  
  
"Good day, William," Thomas nodded his head. Alison stood slightly behind Thomas. She wanted to leave but she stood there out of politeness.  
  
"Good day, Thomas. How've you been?" Will greeted his acquaintance. His gaze immediately fell upon Alison. Her blonde locks were gathered upon her head. Her hair reminded him of a flower arrangement with the tresses bundled together and a few curls were out of place. These curls hung down the back of her neck, for they were too short to be pulled up. She wore no make-up but her cheeks turned rosy while Will held her eyes with his own.  
  
"This is Miss Alison Conners," Thomas introduced her, breaking the silence in the still air.  
  
"Alison," Will's repeat of her name was more of an exclamation, "it's a pleasure to meet you," he finished. The name sounded familiar to him. Had Jack mentioned her before? Was she one of his one-night stands?  
  
"Now that we are all acquainted, we have some catching up to do, Will," Thomas said. He looked around for some place to sit other than the barrels in the corner.  
  
"Oh, Thomas, your father called in an order and I have it finished. Would you mind taking it to him?" Will walked over to a rack of swords in their scabbards and searched through the bundle of unique swords. Not two swords looked alike, for each hilt was different from the rest. Will picked up one of the swords and slid it halfway out of its scabbard and examined the blade.  
  
"He is a married man, Alison. I do not think it wise for you to be making eyes at him," Thomas teased but behind the small joke he was being serious.  
  
"I am not making eyes at him," Alison said in an attempt to defend herself. Will walked over with the sword and handed it to Thomas.  
  
"Yes, I will deliver it to him. Thank you, William."  
  
"Your welcome."  
  
"Thomas," Alison looked at the blonde man standing beside her, "I told my aunt I was not going to be out long and I fear it has been long."  
  
"I will escort you home. William, we should get together some time to catch up. Congratulations on your marriage, too," Thomas began to walk toward the door, sword in hand, and Alison was right behind him.  
  
"Miss Conners, may I speak with you for a moment?" Will asked. Alison looked at the blacksmith and hesitantly nodded.  
  
"I will be outside, Alison," Thomas walked out of the shop, closing the door behind him.  
  
"Do you work at the bar in town, Alison?" Will asked.  
  
"Yes, I do," she innocently answered. She did not want him to think she was a wench like Thomas had assumed.  
  
"Do you know a pirate named-"  
  
"-Jack Sparrow," Alison finished for Will. She finally understood why his name was familiar to her ears. "You must be the friend he always visits."  
  
"You must be the wonderful bar maid."  
  
"I am the bar maid but the wonderful bar maid is stretching the truth a bit. You are nothing like I pictured."  
  
"I did not know a bar maid could look so proper," Will gawked. Alison did not know whether to take that as a compliment or not.  
  
"Um...thank you," she said. "Well, Thomas is waiting outside, so I'd better get home. It was nice to meet you, Will," Alison said, breaking the short moment of silence.  
  
"It was nice to meet you, too. You should come over sometime to meet Elizabeth. I am sure you two would have a lot to talk about," Will said, smiling. He was sure those two would get along, for he was sure Alison would have complaints about Jack just like Elizabeth.  
  
"Sometime," Alison smiled back before disappearing through the door to the blacksmith shop. Thomas backed away from the stone wall he had been leaning against and together he and Alison began walking to Alison's home.  
  
"What did he want to speak about?" Thomas pried. He was slightly suspicious that Will had wanted to speak to her alone and to him it felt as though he was waiting outside for a long time...  
  
"He wanted to know if I had met one of his friends before."  
  
"And?"  
  
"We have a mutual friend. He also wants me to meet Elizabeth."  
  
"A mutual friend? Who?"  
  
"Just someone I know that comes to the bar for a drink occasionally."  
  
"I heard Will is friends with a pirate. If that pirate ever came back to Port Royal and was captured, he would be hanging in the square in no time."  
  
"What's the pirate's name?" panic arose in Alison. She had just come to cope with the fact that Jack was a pirate and she hoped he was not wanted in Port Royal.  
  
"Well, any pirate that comes here and is caught will be hanged, but Commodore Norrington is specifically after Jack Sparrow. From what I have heard about him, I would like to see him hanged, as well," Thomas smiled at the thought of the captain's lifeless body dangling from a rope, although he had never officially met the man.  
  
-Was that a little dramatic? Like corny dramatic? I'm sorry if it was. Anyway, thank you again to Leila and Toni. You guys keep me writing! *Gives each a tin of cookies* I'll try to update as soon as possible. Let's see how the ideas keep coming, shall we? Thanks again! 


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